


The Girl Hurricane

by Mundaati



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus is a creepy utopia, F/F, Les8ifins, lets start a revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mundaati/pseuds/Mundaati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world Sgrub wasn’t a thing that had ever happened to you or the trolls you called your closest friends. In that other world there was a hurricane girl who had fled the ocean to make her home on the pink moon that orbited your planet. She decided that she didn’t like how the world was run, more important than that was the decision that she was going to be the one change it. It was her world and she wanted it a certain way, and she was willing to burn shit down if it was necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vociferocity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vociferocity/gifts).



“Aranea Serket, for the crimes of sedition against the Beforan government, hacking into top secret  files, spreading proproganda and 88 other A class societal felonies this court sentences you to…” The judiciculler sitting up at his podium pauses dramatically, drawing out the pregnant pause with an air of theatrics that is obviously for the cameras that are playing a live feed of your trial. The bad cerulean who has made Great Mistakes, something to cause gossip and distract the population from the truth of things.

 

“Culling therapy, where you will relearn your place within our society.

 

Your fate is sealed with the banging of a gavel and the shocked whispers of the BUOY audience in the  gallery above your head. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, you could write a better scene than this in your sleep. You are not, however, able to resist the urge to quirk your lips when the camera zooms in on your face. You are the unrepentant second in command of Meenah Peixes’s rebellion and you are not scared of their punishments.

 

-

 

In another world Sgrub wasn’t a thing that had ever happened to you or the trolls you called your closest friends. In that other world there was a hurricane girl who had fled the ocean to make her home on the pink moon that orbited your planet. She decided that she didn’t like how the world was run, more important than that was the decision that _she_ was going to be the one change it. It was her world and she wanted it a certain way, and she was willing to burn shit down if it was necessary. So up on that pink moon she started to plan and gather what she wanted for her move.

 

Her first strike on Beforus was patently a shambling mess, she had a ship she’d crafted herself that was loaded with clumsy guns that malfunctioned half as often as they worked. Her childish tantrum of a rebellion consisted of her alone and lasted a total of three hours before her ship was gently shot out of the sky so she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. The sum total of her destruction was two post offices, a food cart peddling grub cakes, and several traffic lights.

 

It was an underwhelming start to Meenah Peixes’ grand revolution, but not even a girl-hurricane can get everything right the first time.

 

The news feeds said that they had taken the child Empress into custody and were in the process of giving her treatment for this ascension induced hysteria, something they claimed was perfectly natural for a Royal-V slated to rule. They reported that Meenah was responding well to the culling therapy that would prepare her to handle the stresses of being in charge of the well-being of everyone on Beforus.

 

You didn’t believe them for a second.

 

Mostly because Meenah was crashed out in your spare respiteblock, eating all your good snacks and planning her next revolution. She had showed up on the doorstep to your hive, scraped up and looking annoyed by her failure but lit up with a fire that said she was going to Do Better the second time around. She’s already pouring over the websites she’s found along with the information you’ve dug up about the empire. She’s still a hurricane girl but now all that force is focused like a laser beam.

 

More than anything you believe she can do this, with this laser beam look in her eyes she can slice through the layers and lies to expose the core of things and change it.

 

-

 

“Take Miss Serket away.“ The judiciculler drawls, clearly pleased by the justice enacted here.

 

You take a step forward and raise your voice before the guards can grab your arms and drag you away to some white painted room where they would try to turn your brain to mush. For a moment you’re afraid your voice might falter, but you think of your hurricane girl and your voice is strong and clear as a bell. Meenah would be pleased. “Your Honor, I believe I have the right to speak before I’m sent off to be reeducated?”

 

He sputters, not expecting this and tries to recover. “Miss Serket, I don’t know where you heard such a thing-“ Without pause you rattle off the exact law and smile sweetly when his face turns a mottled purple. But he can’t deny you, especially when an aide whispers in his ear that you are fully within your rights for this. They law is supposed to be fair, or at the very least appear as if it is fair otherwise what was the point of the whole charade? Finally he grits a mouth full of uselessly sharp teeth that are a trait of the CIV blood classes. “You may speak, Miss Serket.”

 

-

 

“This is coddamned fucked up!” Meenah grates out, staring at the information the two of you have gathered with the aid of others, hidden from the prying eyes of the Global Monitoring Net by the efforts of another of your friends. It’s taken perigrees to find proper evidence of what the two of you have been suspecting and it’s enough to make your protein sack twist. “They’re fuckin neutering us like we’re bleatbeasts and everyones letting them!” She bites her knuckle and looks through the data cataloguing the best amnesiacs and drugs for shaping a defiant mind into something more malleable.

 

When a trickle of fuschia blood trickles down her arm because she’s gnawing with no thought to her own pain, your heart aches. This hurricane girl is fierce and full of attitude but there is a beating heart of her own, and these are her people suffering.

 

“Meenah,” You say, not even sure of what you’re about to do until you’ve tugged her close and are kissing the fuschia blood off her lips. Moments later she’s kissing you back, hands fisted into your hair like this is the only thing in the world right now. Meenah kisses like she wants to devour you piece by piece and you kiss back like you’d let her. When the two of you finally part, she has your lipstick smeared on her lips and you’re both smiling.

 

It’s half a sweep later the second time Meenah Peixes strikes out with her glorious rebellion. This time it is not with guns blazing in an ostentatious show of firepower and adolescent defiance. No, this strike is more precise than carpet bombing a post office. For five glorious minutes, thanks to the efforts of the other trolls Meenah rallied to her cause, you held control of the global communications network and everything that was broadcast upon it.

 

And everyone on the planet, for five glorious minutes gets to witness Meenah talking about what was wrong with their planet.

 

Meenah spoke and miraculously, the planet listened. What she said made sense to the children made to feel marginalized for so many reasons. For disabilities, for mutations, for behavioral ‘abnormalities’ that required them to be culled and coddled by someone from the CIV blood classes. They knew something was wrong with the world they lived in and what Meenah said appealed; made them think that _maybe_ the problem wasn’t with them, but with the people who forced them to feel guilty for just being themselves.

 

The government listened too, and started realizing how dangerous their future empress really was. They listened and began to plan how to hurt her, to keep her message from spreading further than it already had.

 

You suppose you’re lucky that when they struck, Meenah was gone and it was you captured instead. Better than they took the right hand of the rebellion instead of the head. Meenah can survive without you there to nag her about every little detail, though the romantic in you hopes that sometimes she might miss the stolen kisses and arguments that last past dawn when you both really ought to have been sleeping or strategizing instead of arguing about who was flushed for whom in Happy Nights, but you both agree that Troll Arthur Fonzarelli is dreamy.

 

You hope she doesn’t try to launch some daring rescue for your sake, because this movement is bigger than the two of you. It needs to survive this setback and you can do good even during your trial by presenting a brave face.

 

-

 

You’re lying when you say you don’t want your hurricane girl to rescue you like a knight in shining armor, but you can’t be shellfish now. Not with this.

 

-

 

You stare up at the judiciculler and then at the camera and try to do what you think Meenah might do in your place. You fist your hands at your sides and realize that you can’t do what Meenah would, because you aren’t her. You’re Aranea Serket, Windfang and general motormouth who can’t shut up to save her life. And for once, you’re not sure you have the right words.

 

“The Rebellion won’t stop just because you’ve taken me!” You finally shout, defiant to the camera. The judiciculler is calling for order, a commotion has broken out in the balcony but you can’t stop now because if you do then they’ll drag you away without you ever saying it. “Meenah’s the leader but it’s an idea bigger than us and now that it’s here it won’t go away just because you want it to!” The commotion has only gotten louder and now you’re wondering just what’s going on. A guard is thrown past you to collide with the judiciculler’s podium and a painfully familiar voice rings out from right behind you.

 

“Glubbing on and on again, Windfang?” When you turn around to face her, she’s the same as ever. One hip is cocked out at an angle and her golden 2x3dent is slung over one shoulder like it weighs nothing at all. You laugh and try not to cry as you notice that the balcony has been taken over by a mixture of BUOY’s and CIV’s who are loyal to Meenah’s rebellion. She came for you.

 

Meenah grins and saunters over to put an arm over your shoulders and flips off the camera, which is now under the Rebellion’s control. “I don’t know what you bassholes are on aboat,” You try not to wince at the nautical puns in such an important moment. “But in what glubbin universe did you think I’d let you get away with anyfin like this?! I was gonna let you off easy, but now I’m comin for your asses personally!”

 

She raises a hand and a transport breaks through the wall of the courthouse wall, sending further panic through the building. Everything is in disarray all according to Meenah’s plan and you’re quickly swept away onto the ship by your girl hurricane.

 

When you’re alone, speeding away over the landscape to your new hiding place, you admit that you didn’t think she would come for you. In response, she shoves you against a wall and kisses you roughly enough to draw blood. “You doofish,” She snaps, looking mad enough to bite off your nose just because you’ve been particularly stupid. “I’ll always come for you, ain’t no glubbin revolution without you there.”


End file.
